Carrie Fisher chronicles her Hollywood childhood and life after Leia in her irreverent one-woman show, “Wishful Drinking.”

The sci-fi sex symbol-turned-bestselling author takes the stage to share memories of “Star Wars,” those heady days of coiled hair and metal bikinis in a galaxy far, far away.

“Wishful Drinking” first debuted in Los Angeles and moved to Broadway last year for a limited engagement. Fisher brings the production to the South Orange Performing Arts Center on Friday and Saturday. The Jersey shows are being filmed for an HBO special.

Fisher doesn’t mince words as she reflects on her roller-coaster career and tumultuous personal life. Her marriage to Paul Simon ended in divorce, and she has a 17-year-old daughter with her former partner, Bryan Lourd, an agent who broke off their relationship after coming out of the closet.

The 53-year-old writer-actress, daughter of Eddie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at age 24. She self-medicated for years, abusing painkillers and alcohol before getting sober through a 12-step program. Her manic-depressive symptoms are controlled with prescription drugs and shock treatment.

Performing is another form of therapy for Fisher, who talks candidly about mental illness to help people see beyond the stigmas of psychiatry. She reinvented herself as an author with the autobiographical novel “Postcards From the Edge,” which was adapted into a film with Meryl Streep. The 2004 sequel, “The Best Awful,” is being turned into a TV movie on the Lifetime cable network.

We spoke with Fisher on the phone about shopping, aerobics and Republicans.

Q. I see that you’re going to be taping the show in New Jersey. I was wondering, because the show was on Broadway, was there a point when you were considering taping one of the Broadway shows or was it like, “Let’s do this in Jersey”?

A. They wanted to find a place more neutral than Broadway, just in terms of shooting in midtown Manhattan and the variables of car bombs.

Q. I’m curious about the show because it dates back to 2006. Has the show itself helped you evolve?

A. It’s getting onstage and being the best version of yourself. If I’m depressed and I go on and do the show, by the end of it, I’m not depressed. It’s connecting with the audience, and it’s this incredible, intimate dynamic that is invigorating, enlivening.

Q. I’m a fan of your writing and “Postcards From the Edge,” and I was wondering about telling these stories on stage versus writing them down.

A. It’s better. . . . You literally see people go, “Oh yeah.” They get it. They connect. That component is very strong, which is funny, because if you think about what my life is, who the hell would be able to identify with me? It’s a pretty rarefied existence in terms of celebrity. But it’s not about that. It’s about the nature of being a human being and whatever circumstances you’re in, our emotions are all the same.

Q. I’m wondering in terms of your family, the people who you talk about in the show. Have you gotten feedback from them?

A. My daughter is 17 years old. She wants to be a writer maybe, but she would never write autobiographically. She doesn’t like that I tell everything. She’s part of it, and it embarrasses her sometimes.

Q. Has she read your books?

A. Yes. She’s proud of me and embarrassed.

Q. The title for the show, were there alternates you were working with?

A. It was an emergency title, and then I didn’t bother to change it. I only drank if the drugs ran out. The title is the thing that you wish for when it’s an act of hope and faith when you get loaded. You’re gonna change for the better. That’s wishful drinking.

Q. Have you spoken to people over the years who said that reading your books or seeing your show has given them insight and turned them away from self-destructive behavior.

A. Yeah. The stigma is insane compared to what it is. It’s just this treatment. They put you to sleep and it’s 10 minutes. Bye, finished, you’re awake, take a nap, move on.

Q. Was there one particular event that made you decide to get the treatment?

A. My daughter was mad at me. It’s not easy. She has a mother who is a druggie and worse than that, bipolar, so that’s not easy. . . . The intensity of the response to situations when you’re bipolar, you can’t manage it. You can’t function. There’s no perspective. There’s no wisdom. You’re beyond the reach of anything. I found that I was beyond the reach of everything, except some electricity.

Q. Isn’t there a stigma that having treatment, that taking medicine kills creativity?